


A Minor Moment

by Witchy1ness



Category: CSI: NY
Genre: Baby-sitting, Danny-centric, Gen, OCs Ahoy - Freeform, Song Lyrics, another random bit from my Dead Fics folder, head cannon Danny can sing and play guitar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27220381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchy1ness/pseuds/Witchy1ness
Summary: Just a scene I wrote back in my CSI: New York phase that didn't and isn't going anywhere, but it's a cute little bit of nostalgia.





	A Minor Moment

**Author's Note:**

> CSI:NY and everything and everyone recognizable from it belong to Anthony E. Zuiker, Ann Donahue and Carol Mendelsohn, I'm just playing in their sandbox!
> 
> The song "Break It To Them Gently" also isn't mine, that creative genius is all Burton Cummings.
> 
> Written 2010(?).

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“There he goes! There he goes!”

Mikhail squealed as arms swept him up.

“Ok, now where’d Emily go?”

Lindsay scanned the locker room, catching a telltale slip of pink peeking out from behind the garbage can. She was almost at the can when the little girl spotted her, letting out an identical squeal as she took off, only to run headlong into Danny’s other arm.

“Gotcha!”

The twins let out excited giggles, and Lindsay was hard pressed not to join them. With his shirt rumpled and partially un-tucked, and one kid cradled under each arm like footballs, Danny Messer was a sight.

“Look, why don’t you go lock them up in the break room? That way, they won’t get away on you – _again_ – and I can get some work done.”

“Why am _I_ the one stuck babysitting?” Danny complained half-heartedly as they walked back to the break room.

“Because they like you. Besides, their family should be here soon.”

“Not soon enough,” Danny muttered under his breath.

Yeah he enjoyed the little squirts, but there was a big case he was just _itching_ to sink his teeth into. Thanking his stars that at least it was midafternoon and the lunch rush was over, Danny unceremoniously dropped the kids onto the couch in the lunchroom, causing them to giggle.

After making sure the door was closed, he turned back just in time to see his charges leave the couch and make a beeline for the guitar that was suddenly on the coffee table. After looking closer, Danny placed it as the one that had been found with the twins. Even as he watched, they were carefully running their fingers across the strings.

“Pretty smart for a coupla four year-olds.”

“Play?”

Both eyebrows shot up. “You want who to do what now?”

“Play?” Emily repeated. Just in case he’d misunderstood, Mikhail trundled over and tugged on his pant leg until Danny obediently followed him to stand next to the instrument.

“Play?” Mikhail joined his plaintive chorus to his sister’s, and Danny caved to two sets of big blue eyes.

“Ok, ok. Guess I could strum sumthin’ up.”

The two raced back to the couch as Danny picked up the guitar. He couldn’t completely hide his grin as he watched them crawl up, Emily at one end, Mikhail at another, both fussing until they were comfortable.

“So if I play good enough, you’ll take a nap? Works for me.” He carefully covered both with a blanket scrounged earlier, then sat back on the table.

Drifting his fingers over the strings, he was pleased to note there were only a few minor adjustments to make, the instrument being very well tuned. Danny let his fingers dance over the strings as he thought of something to play.

His gaze drifted to the people rushing by, a curious soundless film. Running to results, or from them; sometimes all it took was a piece of paper, and bam! That was it. Game over.

He began to pick out the tune without realizing it; hadn’t meant to sing, but it came out anyway.

_Break it to them gently, when you tell my Mom and Dad_

_When you see my baby sister, be as kind as you can_

_Break it to my Grandma, who said, "The boy's wild and bad"_

_Break it to them gently, when you tell them that I won't be coming home again_

Stella paused mid-sentence. “Do you hear that?” She asked Mac. “It sounds like…singing?” Mac and Don exchanged glances, “In here?”

_‘Cause I'm runnin’ with a gun and it isn't any fun as a fugitive_

_Fightin’ for my life and I don't know if I'll make it alone_

_Runnin’ with a gun and it isn't any fun as a fugitive_

_God I wanna go home_

_Lord I wish I was home_

All three stepped out into the bullpen. Normally, the pen was a hive of activity; uniforms and reporters and suspects and victims; all combined to form a veritable cacophony of sound. But everyone was stopped, focussing on the music that seemed to come from Don’s desk.

_When you see my lady with the twinkle in her eye_

_Tell it to her softly and hold her if she cries_

_Tell her that I love her and I will ‘til the day I die_

_Break it to her gently when you tell her that I won't be coming home again_

“It’s coming from the guitar case.” 

Mac held up a hand to intercept Stella. “Wait,” he said quietly.

_‘Cause I got in too deep with strangers_

_Thinkin’ they could help me find my way_

_But nobody warned me of the dangers_

_And it's always the young and foolish that have to pay_

_So break it to them gently when you tell my Mom and Dad_

_Thank them for the good years and all the lovin’ that I had_

_Break it to my Grandma, who says, "That boy is wild and bad"_

_Break it to them gently when you tell 'em that I won't be comin’ home again_

Stella could actually feel her eyes tearing up. Really, if this wasn’t representative of what they saw every day…. she even noticed a couple of bowed heads as it hit harder for some.

_Cause I'm runnin’ with a gun and it isn't any fun as a fugitive_

_Yeah I’m fightin’ for my life and I don't know if I'll make it alone_

_I’m runnin’ with a gun and it isn't any fun as a fugitive_

_God I wanna go home_

_God I wish I was home_

Danny’s voice trailed off, leaving only the haunting melody he coaxed from the guitar. That too, soon trailed off, and for a few brief moments, there was only silence until the natural rush and hum of the pen came back.

And if it was a little quieter then usual, no one seemed to notice.

Danny couldn’t help but smile as he took in the two sleeping children.

“Hell, if I’da known it was that easy, I would’ve done this sooner.”

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End file.
